Echoes of the Empire
by mirthmover
Summary: This is essentially my first serious piece. I had an idea for this series of stories while working on another story in the same vein. What I'm doing with these echoes is fleshing out the boss characters from the game Soul Reaver. While doing research I found it somewhat odd in how each character died. As if they let it happen. So here I give the first of about five echoes. Enjoy.


Prologue

Nosgoth. A world where ancient races fought for dominion and survival. Long after the last of the great races died or came near to extinction humans began to thrive. However terrible wounds inflicted by war and hate left Nosgoth a doomed land. Amongst ancient ruins and secrets buried in myth a new civilization was born in an unforgiving and cruel world. Here in this world Fate puts upon its actors unusual roles, as if Fate is not in control of its designs.

With a burgeoning new race came the Pillars of Nosgoth. Stretching to the skies above they were the destiny of the humans manifest. To each pillar was born a guardian. For should they be destroyed the world of the humans would die and Nosgoth would fade. Or so the story was told across the infantile kingdoms.

Standing between desolation and prosperity came the guardian of balance, Kain. The pillars began to decay and Kain was to be their salvation. To become the instrument to save Nosgoth he had to become more than human. Through designs of the other guardians he was turned into a vampire. Kain sought vengeance and reclamation of his human form. In his quest he discovered the plot that changed his fate and the choice left to him; die and save Nosgoth or live and let her fade into oblivion.

Kain stood at the foot of the pillars and watched them crumble and fall. He then, in contempt of the people that chose this life for him, sought power. He started with six ancient corpses. Knowing he could not equally divide his black gift he would endow upon the dead men he carefully chose who would receive what portion. Raziel was first of his newly 'born' sons. Turel and Dumah were resurrected after and at the same time. Between the might of those three no clear division could be made without the benefit of time. After Kain's fourth son Rahab his strength greatly waned. Zephon and Melchiah were last and consequently the weakest. By Kain's command they all held equal standing in the leadership of his empire. From his lieutenants were born the clans that would make his vampire armies. Ultimately what followed was the enslaving of the human race. Kain sat upon his throne surrounded by the destroyed pillars an emperor of vampire-kind, an emperor of Nosgoth herself.

As always since she was born, Nosgoth fights against destiny. The wheel of fate commands her citizens even as they rebel against it. Across time balance is broken to sever the connections between Nosgoth and those who would try to control her. Now we come to events after Kain's empire has fallen, the leaders and humans are scattered, and Kain is missing. If we listen carefully we may hear echoes of the past in the wild winds. Hearken to them for they are the echoes of souls who cry out from the whirling tempest of a war fought throughout time. These echoes are from those who play a sad but pivotal role in events to come. Learn from them the battle between the freedom of choice and the chains of fate within their own lives.

* * *

Echoes of the Empire

Echo One:

Dumah's Candor

He meditated, centralizing his soul within the spectral plane. This was one of the only two rituals he could partake trapped as he was in the spirit realm. There were no souls to hunt for the time being so he concentrated his power and strength. It was a training he contrived shortly after his unexpected physical death.

He thought himself second in power only to Kain. At least after Raziel met his doom and Kain left he believed to be the strongest of his brothers. Now with his body being preserved by his spirit it was only a matter of time until he returned to the world of the living. Upon his reemergence, he was certain he would find no equal, not even in Kain, to rival his strength. He would be unmatched and truly immortal. When comes the day of his freedom his empire would be everlasting. Only godhood was left to achieve. With these visions Dumah counted the days gone by. Centuries unfolded as the tenacious vampire continued to strengthen his spirit.

The phantasmal plane twisted the structure of Dumah's palace. At one time his halls were testament to the perfection and splendor of vampiric architecture. Now diminished they only added to the already numerous time-worn ruins across Nosgoth. The throne room became a forgotten crypt. As the palace decayed the phantom structure became less deformed, as if even Dumah's home were following him to the afterlife.

More often, as of late, he contemplated the past. He took this as a sign of losing focus, but why a mighty vampire lord such as himself would bother with the past he did not know. The wisps of memory would pass as he continued his meditation. Despite his adamancy, the memories still floated by more and more. "Why should the past distract me now?" he thought to himself. Dumah began to question the condition of his sanity. "Perhaps this is the slip that happens to all souls. No, I am unlike other souls. I am Dumah. My glory shall not go unsung. My return to Nosgoth shall usher forth a new era." He once again entertained thoughts of his great future empire to ease his mind.

Thin veils of spectral fog began gathering itself and reflected Dumah's thoughts, as they had done at times. Instead of his empire, an image of a face revealed itself. The image was that of Eskandor. "Why do I see not what I wish but this strange host long forgotten from me? Is my will not my own?" he wondered. These thoughts made Dumah grow wary of the madness of the abyss in death. Then his brother Raziel had shown upon the eerie fog. This was less surprising however. For nearly all his life, he had suppressed the memory of an act which now dared haunt him. In what may be his most vulnerable state since his fledgling years, Dumah found himself in regret.

Yes, he had felt the attrition of his hand in Raziel's death wear at him. The uncertainty he felt and Kain's disappearance stayed with him then after. How pathetic he'd become. How cruel this afterthought was that he sought to bury his weakness with posturing rather than quash it. The unanswered questions of why Kain made such erroneous choices had always darkened the periphery of his mind. Now that he was alone, maybe it was not heresy to ponder these questions. Although, what puzzled him the most was the memory of Eskandor.

A few long moments of scrutiny later he noticed a peculiar cloud of fog. At first it did not seem like a wandering soul, so much as a heavily blurred memory. The cloud began to fluctuate, apparently trying to focus its energies. It settled upon a less blurry visage lending form and color. A white-gray hazy silhouette of a man stood in front of Dumah. This strange entity seemed to wear a streak of red upon its right shoulder. "Kain…" Dumah spoke letting the word trickle off before it sounded like a question.

"You remember me child," a familiar voice replied. "What more, you are able to turn down Death's offer. Splendid."

"I doubt you've come to free me then. To what purpose do you intend this chance visit if not to beg for my service?" Dumah asked irritated more than relieved. Kain was an unexpected visitor and not one he wished to see given the memories unwillingly resurfaced. Still, old habits persist among immortals. If he were to learn anything about this encounter he'd have to play his game.

"No, child. Bringing you back to life once was enough for me. I bring news of he who comes after. Your freedom may come at a price you would find disagreeable. He is an angel of death who comes to properly claim your soul."

"Then this angel is a foolish one. If he seeks to revive me simply to take my soul, then he does not know what terror will befall him should I awake. Without question I've surpassed your strength Kain. You erred in abandoning your empire. This vermin does not realize he stirs a new king of Nosgoth. Oh yes. My empire will…"

With a sort of tired chuckle Kain cut off his meandering son's predictable boasting. "I didn't suspect my sons as lowly enough to have abandonment issues. It makes as much sense that this was the hinge upon which my empire fell." Kain, in a seldom displayed manner, became vaguely light-hearted at the chance to mock Dumah's eventual tragedy. He saw that Dumah knew this and did not show a reaction accordingly. A slight smile ran across his face. "Furthermore, I did not abandon it lightly. My endeavors led me on a path that my children could not have crawled upon, much less walked. The wheel of fate demanded my lieutenants serve their time as the lords they would become.

"Great power has little concern for fate. I can make my own destiny. My legacy is an emperor eternal. I will forge new clans and have them swear their fealty to me. The future of the vampire races will be secured through me. I've become more power-…"

"Your delusions of grandeur bore me," Kain interrupted with a small regret in having begun this game. He said in a stern tone to focus Dumah's attention, "Raziel walks upon Nosgoth's soil again."

The words echoed in Dumah's mind. "What new madness is this?" he wondered to himself. "Yet Kain speaks with an apparition very much capable of reclaiming life. Perhaps Raziel somehow managed a similar feat, but how? His body was decimated."

Kain continued, "I did not come here to discuss my actions or gibe you, though it is a distraction I favor. I bring news of your final death. Raziel has been transformed. He pursues his prey no longer as a vampire, but as a wraith returned to the physical realm. He has returned as a devourer of souls that seeks vengeance upon me and his brethren."

"Vengeance for a forgotten injustice?" Dumah asked curious of this news.

"An injustice?" Kain smiled at Dumah's slip. "You thought my decree unjustified?" "Damn," Dumah cursed his own stupidity. "Come child, do you believe I did not know the mind of my sons? I felt the uncertainty and fear blossoming in your mind as you and Turel threw my firstborn into the void. You had doubt in your loyalty since that day and guilt in your solitude. You, especially, let your stature as a great warrior and lieutenant bury these feelings. As I already knew of your idiosyncrasies, a point is not earned."

Moving on after Kain's bravado, Dumah tried for a hit. "You had an ulterior motive for sending Raziel to an apparent death. Your order was given having somehow foreseen this outcome."

"Well deduced if only somewhat mistaken. I did not have my right hand executed out of a sudden bout of avarice." Dumah felt some sliver of relief. "Fate would ultimately carry forth the scenario had I not. We all are bound by the wheel of fate; Nosgoth has chosen our moves already. From the raising of my lieutenants to the fall of the clans, all that has transpired was preordained. Even this discourse, though played as a formality on my part, is tailored to fate's design. As for Nosgoth's new king, you are to bestow your gifts unto Raziel furthering his journey."

Kain broke off his revelation as, in rare moments; he was surprised by Dumah's reaction. Dumah was chuckling to himself. He remembered, thanks to Kain's disclosure, the human Caskin Marrow. He was a curious human who spoke of vampires lacking vision. Dumah was spurned by the memory of this man who, seeing his end come nigh, decided upon actions unconscionable by most humans. At last he spoke, "What a waste. I recall a man saying that I could not see beyond battlefield and empire. And now fate has reduced me to a tool for my wrathful brother to traverse his own hardships. My life has spanned millennia so that fate may turn me into a key when the time is right. That man told me once that humans would win dominance of Nosgoth because they had the compassion that vampires lacked. It would seem some measure of that statement is true. Here, now, at last I understand why. And my life and that of my brothers could have been lived no other way. Even Turel's disappearance is probably part of some prophesied machination. Though I think your designs are flawed, father. Too long have I been a loyal son who carried the will of his sire. I will stop your plans before they bear fruit. When arrives Raziel to rend my soul, I will destroy your favored son. That will be your first death. Your last comes when I find you." Dumah spoke with conviction numbing Kain's joy at the forfeiture of a point unearned.

"The reverie of a contemptuous soul bound to its centuries dead body. Do what you will with my presage but do not mistake your doom by…"

Dumah, fuming at Kain's blather of fate and doom, discontinued his peroration. "Only by the binding of death do you continue life," he boomed. "I've been the focus of your deranged entertainment long enough." Bursting towards Kain's spectral shadow like a furious wind he swung at the white-red cloud. Kain's ghostly form was sent back as if affected somehow on the physical plain. Like so many lost souls he hunted before, Dumah began consuming what essence he could in the same moment Kain's presence in the spectral world had dissipated. He was gone. Listening carefully, Dumah made out the faint sounds of something limping away. He did not kill Kain but to wound the living had cemented his high opinion of himself.

Alone again. He delighted in his victorious spat with Kain but something felt wrong. "Was I actually disturbed by this intrusion?" he thought quietly. Neither Kain nor Raziel had been seen in centuries and yet both were to meet with Dumah in a single day. Kain did not come or go lightly. His absence was mysterious even to thousand year old immortals and his coming heralded subtle, but no less significant, transformations among all the legions. These changes in the clans would ring through the centuries to their final days. Dumah wondered if even their evolution was naturally occurring or were some adverse effect of Kain's actions. No vampire had suspected what the future held, but Dumah had begun to sense its meaning. It then occurred to him that these memories were the result of Death's design. Subconsciously he knew, he saw, the threads of fate lead him here. Death had conspired to claim the deathless.

Dumah was about to dismiss this train of thought, passing it off as an addled part of his far too idle mind. Suddenly, an image began to form in the spectral mist. At first, he thought Kain returned to goad his Dumah further. This was not Kain but the familiar phenomenon of the fog. The fog, airy and weightless, reflected his thoughts like a watery mirror. A moment later, the image deep in Dumah's soul was shown clearly. He stared baffled at the sight of Eskandor's face staring back at him. Why him of all creatures in Nosgoth and why now at the precipice of his downfall? "How bizarre. How absurd," he thought but could not shake the memory now.

Eskandor's face stared silently at Dumah. His unmoving lips regaling the vampire lord with memories long buried. His image retold of the long years of transformation to the vampiric beauty that was now displayed. His pale pink, smooth skin was as if masterfully painted upon his equally well sculpted face. His slender chin held a solemn mouth whose lips held gracefully uttered respect for his new master. His dark, yellow eyes captured the essence of Nosgoth's early amber moon. The horned helmet he donned lent to his visage that of a proud and deadly demon of the skies. Those strong bat-like wings completed this demonic angel of clan Razielim. Much of Raziel had been revived through Eskandor. Though he was the last remaining vestige of Raziel, Dumah witnessed much of Eskandor's own rise through the vampire armies as a respected elder among other clans and a great leader to his own. When first he came to Dumah's halls, he and the forgotten remnants of his clan were changed. Their chitinous skin, developed over the bloodless decades in the dark, deformed the once glorious clan. Through desperation Eskandor lead the last of his clan to the stern cloven hands of their new master. Some centuries later after much success in battle and still yet another evolutionary metamorphosis Eskandor reclaimed the pride of his clan, his beauty radiated to the outside what was in his soul.

Dumah had secretly admired his leadership of the remaining Razielim. Eskandor had exhibited great strength in holding his clan together through all the years of ridicule and tribulation, much of it caused by the Dumahim and Dumah himself. "After these many centuries you have come back to me," Dumah said softly to the image. He still did not know why, but then he did not mind getting lost in this memory.

"Centuries before my unforeseen imprisonment, I remember calling for you. After the disappearance of Turel, I gave the order to gather the rest of his clan and repurpose them as guardians for the remainder of the empire. You were then to personally give my message to my brothers. When at last your tasks were completed you made haste back to your master. Returned to me. Yet when you knelt before me, I saw concern instead of assurance."

Back when the empire still held sway in Nosgoth a dark lord sat in his throne room surveying the small, unsure creature before him. "The proud demon of the sky does not greet his lord with stoic countenance, but a troubled mind and unsure questions. Speak freely child."

In a deep, strangely soothing voice Eskandor said, "His grace is, as ever, sharply perceptive of my thought."

"Forego pleasantries and speak your mind," Dumah said with an irritated tone.

"My lord. The remnants of clan Turelim seem lost, as once mine was forgotten and forlorn. To divide them now may ruin their resolve."

"Your report on my obstinate sentinel. What of him?"

"Sire?" asked Eskandor surprised by his lord's indifference. He continued before Dumah lost patience, "He remains valuable to the empire. He seems to be fond of the mountains in the west. I've seen him fly over them often. Do you think he had a hand in Lord Turel's disappearance?"

"No. Turel simply vanished according to his captain, Torkma's, report. Humans may dabble in magical arts, but those powerful enough to steal a vampire lord from his own halls are long since dead. I suspect our victorious guest merely of being a nuisance. A vampire that remembers too much could be troubling. Contrary to your reports he remains untrustworthy to his master. His ambition is not that of a vampire but of the enemy. Do not let him linger anywhere for too long. As to your unease over the state of Turel's clan, they will have to find strength in themselves. Their boorish arrogance came from their mental acuity inflating their physical might. Now in Turel's wake, the Turelim have born the weight of their first real loss. My brother no longer serves as the beacon of their confidence. If they must have it, then they must take solace from the other clans in their new role. I need the Turelim to position themselves where encampments and cities are weakest."

"Do you anticipate an attack?" Dumah puzzled him but as his slave it was his responsibility to know his lord's will. "I will send scouts to find out more ab-…"

Dumah cut him off, "No. I anticipate no skirmish, but rather I sense a plot. Our successes on the battlefield of late have been too easily won. I do not believe the enemy is gone into hiding, but gathers strength for what they imagine to be a grand scheme. They see an end to this war methinks. As laughable as it is, I still wonder what ploy they intend to enact. Physically, the Turelim are the strongest in the empire. They are most suited to act as guardians for the other clans. Whatever plan the humans decide upon, our new guards will be more than they could have envisioned. Tell me boy, if you were human, what would you think having been set upon by a battalion of Turelim fitted with ten-foot high shields and thick armor?"

"The only force more unyielding would be the mountain ranges of Nosgoth. As a frail human to come across such a sight, a living wall, would fill me with hopelessness," the still young immortal felt inspired by his lord's impressive solution.

"Yes, precisely what I imagined," Dumah stated proudly. "Your concern does not end with this now wayward clan. You harbor disconcerting thoughts about your visit with the other lords. My brothers Melchiah and Zephon resonate a fearful tone in your mind. Relieve yourself of your burden."

Surprised by the accurate assessment of his unease, Eskandor told his master of his worries. "Lord Zephon and Lord Melchiah seem to hold distaste for my very existence. Though I've won favor and respect amongst their clans, my lords hold me in ill-favor. Lord Rahab welcomes me and openly praises my skill and leadership of my clan. My Lord Melchiah and my Lord Zephon merely tolerate me as if my presence were an abrasion to their eyes. I fear they would rather I be dead than in their service even as I serve you."

"Did they tell you of their dislike towards you?" Dumah asked in a curiously angry manner as if irked by this news of his brothers.

"Not so directly did they reveal their malcontent with me, my lord."

"You engaged them in the elder's game then. Depending on what you found, you may find yourself wingless boy. It is not becoming of any vampire to initiate their lord in the game. For that alone you should be dead. For now, out with it. What have you learned?"

"Forgive me your grace, but I did not initiate the elder's game nor participate save by their request."

"Well, you've spared your wings. My brothers were too crafty for you, I wager, to score against them?" he asked alluding to having repudiated his minion's wit. Dumah smiled at this small jab at the flying demon's ego.

"More than that your highness, I won against Lord Zephon. Lord Melchiah beat me but not before I scored two points for my liege." Eskandor amused his master with a tale of his great wit against his lords' malicious minds. To win in the elder's game you must be the first to reveal the thoughts of your opponent three times. It does not matter what thoughts they reveal or how you get your opponent to reveal them save that you only use your wit as the game is played through conversation. As you talk you may lie, deflect, evade, or badger your opponent. Should one of the players come to blows he forfeits the game.

"Be without fear boy. As long as you remain loyal to me they will not harm you. What I tell you now should not whither your respect or service to your lords. My brothers hated Raziel. Your lord Zephon was, with exception to Melchiah, the weakest of his brothers. He often fumed over Raziel's several honors and displays of power. His hatred of those with power drove him and his clan into a madness of which they have not crawled out. The Zephonim have committed acts of torture and malevolence upon their own bodies to achieve power. In some absurd manner Nosgoth seems to have rewarded their strife with unusual abilities. Yet they still would cling to those who have strength like parasites. Zephon's perverse philosophies, if one can use such a word without injuring its dignity, have turned the most devout and steadfast humans into acolytes and vampire worshipers. His clan had since then became instrumental in maintaining the blood farms. Moreover, on the battlefield whereas humans can guess at other clans' tactics the Zephonim befuddle and enchant the greatest of warriors. The humans only understand that death is certain when facing that strange and eerie clan.

Your lord Melchiah shared in the hatred of his brother but not out of fear so much as jealousy. We have much wondered at the reason whether out of poor design or misfortune his life has been riddled with misery. His body could hardly keep from decomposing. In his fledgling years he was seemingly more human than otherwise. Even while knowing this I and my brothers have in no manner stifled our little brother's suffering. As Kain's son and a vampire in his kingdom, he understood that the weak suffer and if they become useless die. Weak though he may have been, he was driven to become great.

Through the misery caused by his brothers and stature he found a new strength. Although his body was meek his mind gave him an acute intuition for the mystic arts. Even yet as he found his place as an accomplished sorcerer Melchiah was mired in his jealousy and hatred for both Raziel and himself. He withdrew himself back in the darkness from with he was born.

When my youngest siblings look at you they are reminded of a once proud and mighty clan. Their ire for you is brought on by seeing Raziel in you.

At this sentiment the child bereft his father did not smile, lest he incur his master's wrath for having shown pride above fealty for his lords. Dumah caught his eyes widening as pride swelled beneath his unrevealing face. He unwittingly let break the slightest smile at the sight of his chiropteran servant's hidden joy having been compared to Raziel.

"I've another task for you Eskandor. It is one to be undertaken at length until our enemy is once more subjugated. To decipher answers to the riddle of my unintentional pet and his possible human consorts, I must meditate. You are to be my imperial guard while I am deep in contemplation."

"Thy will be done Lord Dumah, but I do not understand your reasoning," the stunned vampire spoke curtly, not realizing the error of his tone.

With a faint grimace, Dumah replied in a calm yet stiff manner," Is my decree not enough? Must you have reason to obey me?"

Fearing the wrath of his master, Eskandor deftly formed a defensive rebuttal. "Of course not, your grace. My life is the instrument of your whim. Be you in want of sword, shield, or quill I am yours. I beg you forgive my confusion when earlier you said the Turelim were most suited as guardians. I could not understand why my lord would choose a lesser candidate to honor."

To this, Dumah smiled at his skillful attempt to appease his lord. It was the first time the winged child of death had seen his lord form this expression. Suddenly the great lieutenant began to fade and two copies of his image split in opposite directions fading away. In an instant he was gone leaving behind a surprised disciple. Almost within the same instant the two translucent copies of Dumah merged into one behind the distraught vampire. Eskandor remained unaware of Dumah's presence until he spoke.

Putting his claws gently on Eskandor's shoulders, he gave him reassurance in his decision. "I did say that the Turelim were _physically_ stronger than the other clans. However, an imperial guard needs more than the brute strength that Turel's brood offer. You are cunning, powerful, and swift to decisive action. Your senses are at their peak. My youngest brothers are not the only of Kain's sons to see Raziel in you." He could feel Eskandor's elation and admiration for his master's praise. The strong vampire lieutenant shifted his claws to caress his vassal's smooth, demonic wings. A flash of memory sparked forth when he saw Kain treat Raziel similarly. He felt the shudder of Eskandor's wings; a shudder continuing through Dumah's arms and body. He felt too much like Kain then. "You, Eskandor, are the greatest vampire to serve under the lieutenants of the empire. I would be remiss not to have the empire's strongest vampire; second only to his lords, by my side. Should some pest bare its teeth while I meditate, no other could I trust to end its life." He realized how uncharacteristic his demeanor towards his ward had become. Perhaps the beauty restored to him in his recent metamorphosis softened Dumah's heart. "No," he thought. "I always made sure he knew of his dire circumstance under my heel. If I shower him with respect and admiration it is because he has earned it." What the third born was quick to deny himself was the fact that he did not in fact respect or admire any vampire.

He vanished again to reappear upon his throne in front of Eskandor. "Guard me well child. Flit about or perch somewhere just make sure I go undisturbed. The wrath of your master be upon your head should so much as a breeze divert my focus."

"My lord," Eskandor said with exaltation and confidence in his new position. He stepped backward a short distance and when he saw Dumah's eyes close he silently yet strongly thrust his wings downward, ascending towards the ceiling. Without him noticing, Dumah peeked open his eyes to watch his vampire angel play his aerial escapades. The magnificent Razielim soared upward then let himself fall just before reaching the ceiling. After a moment he opened his wings and spiraled downwards. Just above the floor he flapped upwards toward an open window. He sat in the large gothic window frame for a moment. Falling out, he sailed back up into view before flying off again. "Ever the artisan in his service remains a true son of Raziel," Dumah silently remarked in his pride.

"Then back I sank into thought as you gracefully flew out to survey my halls. Truthfully you were not the best choice for my guard. That honor would have been awarded to another had you not earned my favor. A giant flying bat, no matter how skilled you were, would have been too obvious a threat to any possible assailant. But when you returned from your visit to my brothers' dwellings, something in me overthrew reason. After Turel vanished the leadership, nay, the responsibility of holding the empire together fell to me. When I told you I sensed a plot of attack, I did not see the true scope of the oncoming storm. Yet all the same, I felt only but faintly the storm that left the empire in its ruinous state. Without being aware of it then I realize… yes now I'm certain I felt fear. Fear of loss. Fear of losing you."

He paused longer this time. Dumah felt the absurdity that any of Kain's mighty lieutenants should feel this way and laughed because he didn't care. "The countenance I had held as a great vampire lord to be respected and feared doesn't matter anymore. I wonder now if it ever did. And thusly now I see why I think of you. I grew fond of you." His words were slow and hollow. "Your presence became dear to me. Had Kain not so abruptly executed his firstborn lieutenant, I may not have looked at you twice before, and in the fashion of my father killed the remnants of my brother's lost clan. When hindsight looks upon you, I see so clearly why I kept you by my side."

A distant thudding split off Dumah's recollection of his treasure. "A disturbance in my halls. Perhaps Kain spoke honestly of Raziel's tale of revenge. My late brother comes for my soul." He turned back to the now blurry, fading image of Eskandor. "How regrettable that I did not bother seeing sooner what I felt. As my human life so too goes my vampiric unlife. Yes, I pieced together what history Kain sought to hide from his lieutenants, all former Sarafan Inquisitors. I remember my life as an inquisitor and I did not allow myself to be happy then either. I was too busy being swept up by Raziel's crusade against the enemy of the human race. And again by Raziel in his service to Kain. Strange how little it seems Kain has changed us. I can hear Caskin laughing at how our dual lives were merely two sides of the same coin.

The furnace-forge roared in the distance. "Raziel is close now. Pity. Ironic really. As a vampire lord, my immortality gave to me all the time Nosgoth could spare. And now only as I have begun to see my happiness through you, there is no time left." The reflection on the spectral mist faded and dispersed as Raziel fought the deformed wretches of the once great Dumahim. At the dissolved image of Eskandor, Dumah spoke with heavy words, "Goodbye my love."

Again Dumah fell silent in thought when once more he found himself alone. This was a new loneliness. It felt darker and cold. Soon enough a new visitor would come. With this phantasmal intruder came oblivion for Dumah. He thought perhaps this is penance for his hand in Raziel's wrongful execution. Then again Raziel strides a path of vengeance that leads to the death of Kain. Of this he felt certain. For a final time he would be swept up by Raziel's quest of resolute fury. Helping as only he and his brothers could to fulfill his ambition. At this sentiment a smile rose on the corner of his mouth.

"Come, Raziel. End Dumah's story if you can."


End file.
